


What bards do in the dark

by KuraiYukita



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: M/M, Original Universe, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tentabulges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 01:38:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7915447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuraiYukita/pseuds/KuraiYukita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Velloth is a tiefling bard with simple needs and tastes. They want a place to stay at night, food in their stomach, and someone to care for at night.</p>
<p>The other bard in the inn, a man by the name Symmon, is most certainly someone who is in need for some caring for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What bards do in the dark

**Author's Note:**

> Doing a quick description up front.
> 
> Velloth is a purple, 6 foot tall tiefling with freckles all over their skin, a south east asian face, impala horns, long, thick, black and braided hair that reaches their ass, and is pretty chubby and pear formed. They have a very thick tail, llama feet, saffron yellow eyes with no irises, and there are three piercings in each big floppy ears. 
> 
> Symmon is a human who is not as tall, freckled all over, ginger with curly hair and his hair is tan from working outside in the sun.

Symmon is a sweet man. In his young twenties, with a thin frame, graceful when the music and the song starts, his domain, where he excels, but drawn back, shy, so unsure once he stops, as if he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

You find it adorable.

To be fair, there are several other things you find adorable about him, such as his curly ginger hair, bright as a summers sunset that you haven’t seen for so long, the freckles speckling his tanned skin, hardly soft, he is a farmers boy, he’s not soft, only his demeanor is. His fingers are calloused, hardened through honest work and strumming his lute, this you noticed when you cover his hand with yours, fingers wrapping around his and thumb rubbing against the top of his hand.

Soft whispers are muttered against his ear, the only way for him to hear you in the packed inn, filled to the brim with guests who have enjoyed your performance. You’re singing praises to him, thanking him, he’s lovely, he’s wonderful, thank you, thank you for singing with me, I’ll shower you in my gratitude tonight, and he’s blushing, bright red, answering your words with a soft nuzzle against your cheek.

You’re _purring_ , peppering his jawline tiny kisses, no fangs, not yet, he’s not ready yet, still so unsure of himself, unsure of _this_ , why would someone like you pay attention to someone like him, and you just smile, give him the sweetest kiss against his chapped lips. There’s quiet promises against the skin of his cheeks, promises of enjoyment, joy, you’re doing this for _his_ pleasure, _his_ happiness, because you want to show _him_ what he truly deserves, _his_ importance, for this evening is for worshipping him only.

He’s bright red and it’s adorable, and there’s a soft gulp as he nods, letting out a shaky breath and muttering yes, yes please, thank you, I don’t understand why me, why me, please, thank you.

Gently does it.

You slide off the chair, pulling him with you, arm wrapped around his waist and tail sliding up against the back of his legs as you lead him along to the bedroom, soft hooves tapping against the floor, matching the sound of his soft shoes. He’s ticklish, or he’s nervous, and you’re not surprised in the slightest, and you’re gentle as you usher him into your room, gentle as you push him against the wall next to the door, locking it with your tail as you press your lips against his.

It’s clumsy, undeniably, and you mean both the locking the door with your tail and kissing the sweet shy boy who’s gasping against your lips, tongue sliding into his, devouring his moans. Unsure, but not inexperienced, you feel his fingers slide up against your back, trembling, undoing your braid and sliding his fingers into your hair, leaving you purring against him.

_Good_.

You have a mouth with too many fangs, and you take care not to bite down by accident, but it’s not an accident when you do bite down against his lips, gasps leaving his, tail twisting and turning behind you, raised in an invitation.

Fingers are sliding up under his shirt, splayed against his chest, warm, warmer than his, nails softly raking down his skin and he’s groaning, a sound that sends a shiver up your spine, punctuated by his nails digging into your shoulders. His fingers are tugging against your shirt, and you pull back, smiling, cooing as you undress the both of you.

Bodies contrast each other. His is lithe, thin, and white but tan, and the only thing that you have in common are the freckles that speckle both of your bodies. You, in meanwhile, is thicker, plump, plush, soft, pear shaped, stretch marks over smooth and warm skin, saffron eyes with no irises and thick, pooling black hair, and you’re pressing your bigger body against, falling down against the bed and letting your hair be a curtain around him.

He looks dazed, absolutely precious, adoring and wanting, and he’s moaning your name as you lean down, lips pressing against his jawline, down his neck, fangs gently nipping at his shoulders. You feel his hands wrapping around your body, nails gently digging into your back as he presses his body up against yours, wanting and begging for more, feeling his cock pressed up against your stomach. In turn, your bulge responds, already sliding out of its slit and your nook dripping fluids down your thighs, and your cock slides up against his, wrapping around it.

You don’t think he has ever seen a dick of your type before. To be fair though, that’s not surprising, but there’s most certainly a startled yelp from him, and a bright red blush on an embarrassed face.

God, he’s so cute, it pisses you off, and you swoop down to press kisses against his face.

He’s giggling, mumbling a small apology which draws off into a moan as your bulge squeezes around his cock, tip rubbing against his slit, his body positively trembling underneath your body. Soft, delicious, you begin to crawl down, long, forked tongue licking a long trail from his chest down to his crotch, the taste of sweat and your fluids heavy in your mouth. Your fingers are splayed against thighs, gently parting them until you lie between his legs.

Symmon is looking down at you with dark eyes, head turned away and hand covering his face as he’s trying to muffle his noises as you smile up at him, your tongue sliding itself around his shaft, lips mouthing at the tip, teasing, light, purring, before slowly engulfing his cock, minding your fangs, tongue working up and down. He’s an eager man, though, thrusting up into your mouth and for a moment you choke, startled, but letting the sound drift off into a guttural groan as you take him all the way down, ignoring his apologies.

There’s a pleased hum from you as he shyly slides his hand down and carefully take hold of your hands, and there’s a grin as you look up at him with a mischievous tinkle in your eyes as you start bobbing your head slowly, the purr sending down vibrations down his cock and you’re shivering as you listen to his moans, muffled in an attempt to stay quiet, not from fear from being found out—that’s for another time—but from pure bashfulness.

Perhaps that should be corrected.

Your tongue slides up against his the back of his dick, teasing at the veins, and you slide your mouth up to lick and kiss at the tip as your fingers wrap around his cock, squeezing and pumping him as you worship the tip with your mouth, not even attempting to muffle your moans, which he soon mirrors, hands gripping your horns, nudging, his breathy voice begging for you to continue, more, hesitation in his voice from being so _unsure_ , unsure of going too far, but still so desperate for _more_ , more of this, more of being cared for and worshipped.

And who are you to deny him? A hand slides down to stroke your own bulge, groaning in delight as you arch into your hand, coating your fingers in the thick, slippery liquid, sliding into your own slit and you’re keening in delight, thrusting into yourself as you slide your mouth down on his cock, all the way to the base, swallowing around the head and your tail writhes, lashes behind you as you listen to him let out a loud _‘Please, please, gods—!’_ and you give in.

Fingers slide out of your nook, covered in the purple liquid, your slit clenching around nothing and you’re whimpering as your fingers press up against his entrance, earning a small gasp, but he relaxes, ready as you press a finger into him, the second one joining it shortly thereafter, and his hands are now gripping the bedsheets, a long, loud moan emitted from him as he rocks his body down against his fingers, and as you begin thrusting your fingers into him, gently, carefully, yourself unsure of how he likes it, he sets the pace himself.  
You feel his ass twitching and clenching around you as you stretch him, a third finger joins in, and he’s keening as you slide your mouth off his cock, lips swollen and wet with saliva as you replace it with your hand, pumping his shaft as you press kisses against his stomach, his chest, up to his neck, fangs raking over the skin and small bites peppering his body.

You feel so empty it hurts, your bulge twisting and rubbing up against your nook, and you let it slide into yourself, moaning heatedly against his neck as you feel yourself stretch around the girth, and he’s whispering, begging as you fuck him with your fingers and pump his cock with your hand, ‘ _Need you, god, please, please—‘_ And you hush him shakily, not now, he’s not ready right now, he’d break, but your thick tail teases its way up his leg and presses against his entrance, replacing your slick fingers.

Just the tip, you tell himself, but he’s writhing underneath you, pressing down against it and he wants _more_ , he wants so much more and who are you to deny him that? Your tail begins to thrust into him, just the tip, too fat and thick to get any further, but he’s in pure ecstasy, far too gone to care right now, and you claim his lips as he lets out a loud shout and comes over his stomach, panting and shaking, and your face is nuzzled against his neck, whispering sweet nothings, ‘ _Beautiful, you’re beautiful, you’re so good, fuck, you’re perfect—‘,_ and you come above him, bulge pressed deep into yourself and filling yourself up, the knot doesn’t reach and it’s not _enough_ , but you let it stay inside you as you shiver and shake above him, he’s petting your back, peppering your cheek with kisses until you’re completely spent, bulge sliding back into its sheath and you’re slumped down against him.

He thanks you, and it’s adorable, small thank yous, small pecks against your face, and you’re both smiling as you lie down next to his smaller body and wrap yourself around him.

You’re both sweaty and dirty, but right now, it’s alright, neither of you mind. Neither of you will mind when you wake up the next morning, happy and sore.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a gift to my DM http://kr1g.tumblr.com/ who gave me the idea in the first place, heckled me to start writing it, and then distracted me while I was writing it. 
> 
> I love them, they're a great DM.


End file.
